Five Times Walter Tried to Teach Paige to Code…
by FoxPhile
Summary: … and one time he did. Those that can, do. Those that can't…
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Five Times Walter Tried to Teach Paige to Code… _and one time he did_**

 **Summary:** _ **Those that can, do. Those that can't…**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own** _ **/scorpion**_ **. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

Walter was frustrated. Ralph asked him to code review a project he was working on for a computer science course. Walter was good at this. He knew he was good. Ralph was better. Orders of magnitude better. It was difficult for him to follow everything Ralph was doing with the code, but he could tell, at least, that the program was on track. It wasn't his own inability to fully understand the code that frustrated him. He was concerned that the code was so advanced it was bound to be beyond the capabilities of Ralph's instructor. Walter knew from experience – that was a situation that often led to failing grades simply because teachers assumed work was wrong when they couldn't understand it.

He felt he should warn Ralph of the possibility. But what could he tell the boy to do? Dumb down his brilliant code just to get a passing grade? He once advised Ralph to never hobble his intelligence for anyone, but what if a strict adherence to that rule could be detrimental to his boy's future? A failing grade – even in just one course – could prevent Ralph from getting into the best university. It could hinder his ability to get the advanced degrees that would allow him to fully realize his potential.

Walter did well enough for himself without ever going past his public-school education. But he'd had Cabe and his early work with the US government that helped him launch his own business. That business, however, skated by on a shoestring until Cabe re-entered his life with an unending stream of high-risk and high-pay government cases. Walter sometimes thought of Ralph taking over Scorpion one day, but more than anything he wanted Ralph to have the opportunities he never had to pursue whatever career he wanted.

"Whoa! That's quite a frown, Walter." Paige set a bag down on his desk and began unpacking take-out containers. "Something wrong?"

Walter looked up from the screen he was staring at, then stood up and went to the kitchen. "I'm…uh… proofreading Ralph's coding project and as far as I can tell, it's perfect… bug free and extremely efficient."

Walter returned with plates, utensils and napkins just as Paige finished unpacking the food. Together they began opening the containers and shuffling about as they dished out their lunch preferences.

"So then, what's the problem," Paige challenged. "The look I saw when I walked in wasn't suggestive of an 'A' grade for my son."

Walter picked at the shrimp on his plate. Explaining the difficulty to Paige was nearly as problematic as deciding what to tell Ralph. "I'm… concerned that Ralph's work may be too good."

"I… don't think I follow," Paige replied. She set her fork down, her Kung Pao Chicken untasted. "How can it be _too_ good?"

"I… can just barely follow what Ralph's program is doing. If it's difficult for me and my one-ninety-seven IQ, it will most likely be completely incomprehensible for Ralph's instructor."

"So? He might have to ask Ralph to explain the program. Once he gets it…"

"That's… that's the problem." Walter turned the screen so they could both see it. "The more likely scenario is that the instructor will see segments like this," he outlined a section on the screen, "and assume that Ralph's program is trapped in an infinite loop." Looking up he saw that Paige seemed confused. "An infinite loop is a program that repeats continuously with no way to exit and go on to the next command. Bad ones can tie up a computer system so badly that it crashes – and that's if you're lucky. On some of today's scalable systems, a program like that will keep demanding more resources, racking up thousands of dollars of charges. Most companies have safeguards in place to stop things like that from happening, but it's still considered bad code."

"So then… there _is_ something wrong with Ralph's project?"

"No. That's just it. There isn't. But it took me an hour of studying this section alone to figure out what Ralph is doing. It's brilliant, really. But someone who is not a genius… a coding genius… may not find it. Plus, it's unlikely that an instructor who must grade a dozen such projects will take the time to try. Unfortunately, the most likely outcome is that Ralph's teacher will give him an 'F' based on his initial assessment of the code. The instructor is not going to ask Ralph to explain it. He'll just assume it's bad code. It's unfair, but it's very often what happens when the work of a genius is appraised by a non-genius."

"So… is that why Einstein flunked math?"

"Uh… that is actually a… a myth. Like many geniuses, even lesser geniuses like Einstein, he had difficulties with standard uh… educational systems and often quarreled with teachers. He did, in fact, fail some of the general knowledge sections of an entrance exam for the Swiss Federal Polytechnic school, but he excelled on the math and physics sections of the exam. Geniuses can be somewhat… uh… single minded in our interests and dismissive of uh… lesser disciplines."

Paige snorted. "Okay… back to Ralph's project. What can we do? Could you maybe… write an explanation of the code… sort of a preface… for the teacher?"

Turning the screen back, Walter studied the code some more. "That… might help. But I'm not sure I'm qualified to explain this myself."

"Well, I'm certainly not! If not you, then who?"

"I… have no other viable suggestion." Walter pushed his plate aside. He was confronted with a problem that seemed insurmountable, and that usually killed his appetite. "Even if I write something, there is another factor that we need to consider."

"Another factor? What other factor?" Paige picked up both plates and turned to place them on her desk, out of their way.

"Ego. I'm not a scholar of human behavior, but I believe part of the problem when normals serve as teachers to geniuses is their reluctance to admit that the student is greater than the master. If I write up an explanation of the code, it means we're _assuming_ the instructor will not understand it. That could cause more damage."

Paige slumped in her chair. "Then… what can we do?"

"I considered advising Ralph to simplify his code but…"

"NO! I refuse to have my son hiding who he is. If that teacher fails him, I'll… I'll go to the head of the department… or the university president… or…"

"Or better yet, we can simply install the code on the school's servers and prove that it works."

"You can do that?"

Walter just grinned. Sometimes the simplest solutions were the best.

"What am I saying. Of course, you can do that." Paige laughed and spun around in her chair. "But maybe we should wait and see what happens first. You might upset more than just egos if you hack into their computers. Let's make sure it's necessary first."

"All right," Walter nodded. "It may be fine. I shouldn't generalize. I'm sure there are some teachers… who appreciate the successes of their students, even when the students outstrip them… intellectually."

"Didn't you have any good teachers, Walter? I had a history teacher in junior high that I just loved. He really made US History come alive for us."

"I was… um… not so lucky." Walter began toying with some of the items on his desk. He picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers, then set it down on the desk and flicked one end to set it spinning. He wasn't comfortable talking about his childhood, even with Paige. "My formal schooling came to a halt when Cabe brought me to the US. While I was in school I had no interest in language skills and social studies, although I generally passed simply because I could memorize the texts. In science and math classes I ran into this issue constantly. Math teachers were… particularly uh… annoyed when I surpassed their abilities and ventured to prove my superior intelligence."

"That must have been rough."

Walter nodded. "It was… unpleasant. I'm not sure I would have survived it if not for Megan. She… defended me… in her own way. She never failed to convince me that the fault was with the teachers, and not with me."

"Walter, could I ask you a favor?"

Walter looked up. Paige should know by now that he would do pretty much anything for her. She seemed oddly hesitant. "Of course. Anything… you know that."

"Well… this might not… it might be something you're not entirely… comfortable with."

She was apparently trying to postpone making her request. It was one of the things Walter now recognized about human communication – the effort to put off saying something that might not get a favorable response. He didn't understand it – it was extremely inefficient. But he tolerated it now, and tried to patiently wait out the delay. Sometimes a bit of encouragement was useful.

"I believe that is highly unlikely. You should just ask. What would you like me to do?"

Paige smiled. "I was wondering… do you think you could teach me some of this stuff?"

Looking around his desk, Walter frowned, unsure about exactly what 'stuff' Paige was talking about. He was diagraming a design for a new thrust control system, and he was also working with Sly on a possible proof of the Riemann hypothesis. It seemed unlikely that Paige wanted to learn about rocket engines or advance prime number theory.

"I'm sorry… what is it you want me to teach you?"

Paige leaned forward and pointed at the keyboard. "Computers… coding… all that programming stuff that you and Ralph love so much. I know I'll never learn anything like what you do, but I'd like to understand at least every third word he says when he's talking about it. I was hoping maybe you could… give me a few basic lessons."

Walter wasn't sure what he was expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. He never thought of himself as a teacher and other than showing Ralph a few things, had never done any teaching. Still, he was sure he could impart a few basic principles. It might even be gratifying.

"Of course. I'd be happy to do that for you. We can start right now, if you like." He began stacking up some of the papers on his desk and thought about the best arrangement for their lessons. He could get out a spare keyboard and attached it to his laptop so that he and Paige could work on the same modules together – something like a training vehicle with dual steering controls.

"Oh… um… wait," Paige protested. "I've got just enough time to finish off the week's invoices, then I have to go pick up Ralph. Maybe we can start off on Monday morning? If it's all right with you, I can come about an hour early." She laughed. "I wouldn't want to do this on company time. Not sure how the boss would feel about that."

"But… I'm your bo…" Suddenly, Walter recognized the joke and laughed, too. "I see. That was humorous because I am your boss and I've already suggested we work on company time."

"Yes, you did. Maybe sometimes when it's slow around here, we can work in some extra time. But any time we plan should be off hours. I wouldn't want to take advantage."

"Paige, I can never begin to repay you for all you've done for… for Scorpion and for… for me. I'm only too happy to do any favor for you that you might ask."

Paige got up, grabbed the forgotten plates from her desk and put them on his. "In that case, maybe you can reheat my lunch? I'm starving, but I **hate** cold Chinese!"

* * *

July 8-10, 2017


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Five Times Walter Tried to Teach Paige to Code…**

 **Summary:** ** _… and one time he did. Those that can, do. Those that can't…_**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own** ** _/scorpion_** **. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

"Do you have your computer project?" Paige wondered why she had to remind her genius son of things like this multiple times. Walter never seemed to forget anything, but Ralph would, as her mother used to say, "…forget his head if it wasn't screwed on". She supposed it was evidence that beneath the brilliance of his mind, he was still a young boy. The thought made her smile.

She was anxious to get Ralph off to school on time. The sooner she dropped him off, the sooner she could get to the garage and start her computer lessons with Walter. She motioned for her son to hurry and he came down the hall, hefting his backpack over his shoulder.

"Both arms, young man," she reminded him. Ralph grumbled, but complied. Paige recently read an article about the injuries school children could get from backpacks worn over one shoulder. Knowing that Ralph's pack was probably heavier than he should carry, she didn't want to make things worse by allowing him to wear it incorrectly. She checked him over, trying not to make it look like she was checking him over. He was long past the days when she would dress him for school. Now he was getting too old for her to remind him about matching socks and clean underwear or coordinated outfits. She wondered what sort of individualist fashions she would have to deal with once Ralph was in high school. If he even attended high school. She still felt that attending a regular school was good for Ralph; it was helping him to get along in the real world. She wondered, though, if the time would come that it no longer made sense.

* * *

"I hope I'm not late," Paige called as she entered the garage. She dropped her bag on her desk and looked around. She expected Walter to be at his desk, waiting to introduce her to the mysteries of computer program writing. He wasn't there. She wandered over to the kitchen, but he wasn't there either.

"Walter?" She called upstairs, thinking he might still be getting dressed or might have gotten caught up in one of his personal projects. There was no answer.

She made her way to the back of the garage and checked the rest rooms. Both doors were open, and no Walter there, either. She was running out of places to look. Thinking back, she was sure his car was parked in its usual spot when she drove up, so he had to be here. Even if he decided to go down to the diner and pick up some breakfast, he would have taken his car. Assuming he remembered their appointment – and she'd just been thinking about how Walter remembered everything - he would have called her. She walked back over to her desk and rummaged through her bag. Pulling out her cellphone, she checked it for calls. Nothing. She tossed the instrument back in her purse, planted her hands on her hips and turned slowly to recheck the still empty garage.

Maybe he was on the roof? She headed up the stairs. She was just starting up the second set of stairs when she heard a loud fit of coughing followed by a groan coming from Walter's loft. She turned abruptly, nearly losing her balance on the narrow stairs. Breezing through the small kitchen, she saw Walter standing next to the open bookcase that divided the area. He was holding on as if he might fall down any minute.

"Walter, are you all right?" It was a stupid question, as he was clearly far from all right. He didn't answer immediately, but looked up. Paige wasn't sure if he even recognized her.

"Bathroom," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Help me get to the bathroom?"

Paige nodded and rushed over to put an arm around his waist, her other hand reaching over to take his. With the added support, Walter shuffled to the small bathroom. Paige thought of asking if he wanted her to come in with him, but decided against it. Walter was not only fiercely independent, but also still fairly shy – even with her. "I'll be right out here if you need anything," she said as he closed the door behind him.

What she heard from the other side was nothing short of… disgusting. It was obvious the man was severely ill. "Should I call Toby," she asked during a lull in the proceedings.

"No," came the weak response, followed by another groan.

Paige heard the toilet flush and water run for the third time. She hoped the third time would be the charm, and it apparently was. The door opened and Walter came slowly out. He seemed a little less… deathly. He'd been green going in; now he was pale and greyish but his eyes seemed a touch brighter. Although that could just be fever. Paige resisted the impulse to feel his forehead. But that didn't mean she wasn't going into "mom" mode.

"Let's get you back into bed, mister," she commanded as she took his arm and steered him in that direction. Surprisingly, Walter didn't protest. Paige fully expected him to claim he needed to get to work, but he merely followed along beside her, not saying a word as she helped him sit on the side of the bed and then packed him snugly under the covers.

"I'll be right back," she commented as she turned and rushed out of the room. She nearly flew down the stairs and grabbed the bag that she carried with her every day. Then she made a quick detour to the kitchen, where she grabbed some of the juice boxes she kept there for Ralph. As she ran back up the stairs, she rummaged through the bag, smiling when she found what she was looking for. She'd been carrying around that bulky thermometer for years in case Ralph got sick while they were away from home. Her son was remarkably healthy and she never actually had to use it. It would come in handy now, as she doubted that Walter had a fever thermometer.

"Bring me my laptop," Walter pleaded as soon as she came within sight of the bed.

"Over my dead body," she countered. She marched over to the bed and set the probe of the thermometer against Walter's forehead. "Give this a minute and we'll know just how sick you are. When did you start feeling like this anyway, and why didn't you call me?"

"I tho…" Walter paused and coughed violently, causing the thermometer to lose contact with his head. Paige sat down on the bed and gathered him in her arms, raising him up and gently rubbing his back, hoping to help break up the congestion. Once the coughing passed, Walter slumped and she eased him back down on the bed, quickly resetting the thermometer and pressing it once more against his head.

"I thought it would pass quickly. I'm never sick; or at most I just get a little cough sometimes. But this…"

The instrument beeped and Paige looked at the small display. "Geez! A hundred and two! This is much more than a little cough. It's a bit late in the season for it, but I'm betting you have the flu. Are you sure you don't want me to call Toby?"

Walter nodded weakly and Paige leaned over to pick up his cellphone. Within moments, the doctor was answering.

"One-Ninety-Seven! To what do I owe the honor of this early morning communique?"

"It's Paige, Toby." She could practically hear the man sit up and pay attention. As close as they were, she and Walter didn't use each other's phones. Toby would realize immediately that something was wrong. "Walter is sick. I'm pretty sure it's the flu. I've got a fair idea of what to do, but I thought maybe you could come by and have a look at him."

"When did he first start feeling sick? And can you take his temperature?" Toby asked.

Paige turned to Walter and repeated the question.

"Started coughing Saturday," he replied. "Weak all day yesterday. This morning… first time… sick… in the bathroom."

"Okay," she soothed, and gently smoothed the blanket over his chest. She repeated what he'd told her into the phone, along with Walter's temperature.

"Yep, that sounds like the flu all right. It's been less than forty-eight hours, so we can start him on medication. I'll swing by a pharmacy and pick some up along the way. I should be there in about… forty-five minutes."

* * *

After thoroughly examining the reluctant patient, Toby left Paige with a packet of anti-viral pills and a bag full of fever reducers, cough suppressants, expectorants, menthol rubs and just about anything a person sick with the flu could need. He even made a side trip to Kovelski's and brought back a quart of their chicken noodle soup.

"I'll probably need to take a bath in Purell before I get home. Wouldn't want the missus or that bun that she's cookin' to catch this!"

"Oh!" Paige cried, stricken. "I didn't even think of Happy and the baby! I'm so sorry Toby. Are you sure it's safe?"

"Sure. Happy and I both got our shots, and I'm only half kidding about the Purell bath. I picked up a big bottle when I was at the store and I'll slather it all over myself before I go in the house. I might even strip and go naked just to make sure there aren't any nasty germs on my clothes. Although that might encourage my little muffin to want to get very, very close. Those pregnancy hormones, you know." He wiggled his eyebrows, and Paige made a gagging noise.

"TMI, Toby, TMI!"

"Which stands for 'Toby, Master of Innuendo'," he quipped. "Now for some seriousness, Paige. Call me if his fever gets any higher. A hundred and two is medium grade, but if it gets to a hundred and three, that's when it gets dangerous. We wouldn't want to cook Mister 197's magnificent brain, now would we?"

Paige agreed and walked him to the top of the stairs. "I'll be sure to keep an eye on him."

"Good luck," Toby answered. "You're gonna need it. Doctors are supposed to be lousy patients – but Walter? He's in a class by himself."

* * *

Paige dragged a chair over from the living room and positioned it so she could watch Walter, but also see the television, which she'd turned on with the sound off and the closed captioning on. Toby would let Happy know that today was a work at home day for Scorpion. She had called Cabe and Sly, and arranged for the latter to pick up Ralph and watch him for the night. With luck, the meds would kick in by tomorrow.

"My laptop?"

Walter was struggling to sit upright in the bed.

"Oh no you don't!" Paige moved to stand up, but Walter waved a hand and settled back against the pillows, bringing the covers up around his chin.

"I'm sorry about our lesson," he said. "I was looking forward to it. I even had a syllabus all written up. I was going to start by explaining the 5 generations of computer language. First generation is machine language. It's just numbers and it's readable only by computers. Even geniuses don't read machine language, but every other type of computer program has to be translated into machine language before the computer can use it. That process is called 'compiling'. The next generation is assembly language which is still very low-level but a bit more understandable to humans. Second generation languages give a programmer the greatest level of control over what the machine does, but the code must be written in very precise detail. Some of what Ralph and I do is assembly language, but even we prefer the more readable 3GL languages."

Walter paused to cough, and Paige thought briefly of insisting that he stay quiet and try to rest. Then she thought better of it. Walter would be miserable just lying there. If all he was doing was talking through a few basics, it would keep his mind off his illness – but also off the work he was missing. She drew the chair up closer and handed him a tissue so he could blow his nose. She'd dosed him with a cough suppressant that promised to make him drowsy, so he might even doze off soon.

"Third generation languages are used for almost every computer application, sometimes together with 4GL and 5GL languages. The 4GL languages are the most like human language. They use regular human words, but the way those words are strung together must follow exact rules or the computer won't understand them. Lastly, 5GL languages are used to provide a computer with a set of rules so that it solves problems itself and acts accordingly. They are used in…Artificial… Intelligence sys…"

Walter yawned and blinked. "…systems," he mumbled.

Paige smiled. Her lessons would just have to wait for another day. Walter was sound asleep.

* * *

August 15-28, 2017


End file.
